


Challenge! Karl Pilkinkton says dumb shit!

by SongstressTinyTeacup



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongstressTinyTeacup/pseuds/SongstressTinyTeacup
Summary: A prompt challenge sent to me by my beloved friend Evening_Star713, Monty makes a grave mistake in his choice of words, and Phoebe and Sibella do not take it well.BEHOLD. I HAVE THROWN DOWN THE GAUNTLET.





	Challenge! Karl Pilkinkton says dumb shit!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Evening_Star713](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evening_Star713/gifts).



Another dinner at home had passed, though there was nothing distinctly remarkable about this one.

It had only been The Earl, Countess, and Mrs. Holland, the usual dinner party unless Lord and Lady Navarro were entertaining.

Shortly after dinner, Sibella had excused herself to go to bed, having been worn out from the travel to the castle, and fully aware that this night was a night Monty had always reserved for Phoebe.

The trio did love being together most of the time, but Sibella knew that sometimes Phoebe longed for a more traditional side of their arrangement, where Monty took only her to bed instead of both women.

The petite brunette loved Sibella dearly, but there was something to be said for the way her eyes would glitter with excitement when she’d retire for bed before the Earl had finished his glass of sherry.

And so, Monty had climbed the stairs to the gallery, then made the short trek to the bedroom he shared with his wife and entered.

There sat Phoebe at her vanity, and she smiled as she toyed with the necklace that had previously graced the flesh of her slender neck.

“Good evening, my darling.” Monty grinned, going over to his wife and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Go to your dressing room and wait, I’ll ring for Violet.” Phoebe had giggled, rising and taking only a single step toward the bell tassel before Monty’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.

“Allow me.” The Earl made his voice sound as smooth as the honey that Phoebe used to get from Henry’s bee colony, as he removed several hair pins and sent her long, chocolate tresses spiraling down.

“I warn you, if this gown ends up ripped I shall leave you at Sibella’s mercy. I’ve not yet forgiven you for the last one, it was a favorite of mine.” Phoebe threatened, turning to face her husband.

She had married for love, of course, but it didn’t hurt that her husband was also extremely pleasant to look at.

With his dark hair perfectly styled, and his ice blue eyes tracing over her body, making her increasingly aware of every breath she took.

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He practically purred as he turned her and began to undo the buttons at the back of her dress.

Once the first layer had been removed, Monty had wasted no time in going on to the petticoats and corset cover, each one leaving Phoebe the slightest bit more bare before him.

The Countess had only her corset, shoes, stockings, undergarments, and chemise left to be removed when Monty had pushed her back onto the foot of the bed, nipping at the tender flesh just under her jaw.

Even so, Phoebe had smiled, a soft laugh escaping her before Monty had said something that gave her immediate pause.

“Get your knickers off.” He had demanded, before kissing her roughly.

Phoebe’s entire body stiffened, and she managed only to push him back before he kissed her a second and third time.

“Stop.” She had commanded, raising her voice to ensure her husband had heard her.

Monty looked down at her, puzzled.

“Something wrong?” He inquired, looking up from the buttons of his waistcoat, which he had been trying to undo since Phoebe had discarded his dinner jacket.

Phoebe held up her hands as she rose from the bed, walking to the vanity and collecting her dressing gown.

“There are several things wrong, Montague. The first of which being the words you have just spoken to me, now, if you’ll excuse me I think I’ll join Sibella tonight.” Phoebe shook her head as she tied the sash of the dressing gown firmly around her waist.

Monty’s heart fell, and the man immediately scrambled to make his apologies, though Phoebe knew he still hadn’t the foggiest clue why she was cross with him.

“Don’t. You shan’t make it better tonight, so I will find sleeping arrangements elsewhere. It might do you good to reflect on the proper ways of speaking to a _lady_ before engaging in intimacy.” Phoebe had cut him off before a single syllable had left his lips, crossing to the door and leaving Monty to his own devices.

Down the hall, he heard another heavy door open, and then slam shut.

It was only a matter of moments before Sibella appeared, hair tousled from what had obviously been a deep sleep, dressing gown trailing behind her as she crossed her arms firmly.

“I do hope that what Phoebe has just told me was her being unable to distinguish between a nightmare and reality.” Sibella challenged, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow at her lover.

The downcast look on Monty’s face had told her it was not.

“Montague D’ysquith Navarro, I cannot believe that you would ever be so crass! You are an _Earl_ , not a tradesman in some hotel, how _dare_ you speak to your wife in such a manner!” Sibella’s eyes had narrowed, and she took one dangerous step forward.

The tall blonde meant business, something that could only spell trouble for Monty.

“Now Sibella, I didn’t mean any harm I just-“

“Is that something you’ve picked up from your tenants, or from Lionel? And to think I was so certain that you were nothing less than a gentleman, only to find out how wrong I was!” Sibella cut him off, stalking forward once more until she was nose to nose with him.

“But-“

“I will not hear another word from you tonight. You will go to bed, and once you have reflected on what you have done and are ready to apologize, in the morning you will seek out Phoebe and I in my boudoir. _Then_ you will apologize, and from that moment forward you will treat your wife the way she deserves to be treated, instead treating her like some whore in an alley.”

With that, Sibella had whirled around and made her leave, while Monty had sat on the bed, mind swimming in Sibella’s words and his own guilt.

He knew Phoebe would go to Sibella, and that Sibella would come to him and make sure such an incident never happened again.

There’d be hell to pay if it did, and Sibella was far less generous the second time around.


End file.
